


Love & Other Geopolitical Quagmires...

by AreYouSittingComfortably



Category: Salvation (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Aftermath, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Love, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-01-10 10:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12297396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AreYouSittingComfortably/pseuds/AreYouSittingComfortably
Summary: A series of one-shots and intertwined stories about the main characters of Salvation, their growth and change, taking place before and after Darius seals everyone in the bunker except himself, and Liam. Stories about love, friendship, family, with a bit of adventure thrown in. How do people react when all seems lost? Salvation sometimes comes from unexpected places. Born from the desire to fill in some gaps and continue the story. Just like the limbo we're left in after Season: this may (or may not) continue! Read the chapter notes for context. NEW CHAPTER posted 05 April 2018.





	1. From Russia with ?

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 - a one-shot that clamoured to be written about Grace and Darius taking stock of their relationship on the flight back to the US. First posted on Tumblr.

They spoke little on the flight back. Minister Toporov had arranged for the head of Russia’s space programme to escort them to the airfield and he and Darius discussed the arrangements that needed to be made. Grace sat quietly trying to wrap her head around the technical details. A glance at the Russian suggested he was struggling to follow too. Darius’s mind seemed to race at an entirely different pace and complexity than anyone else’s.

The moment they boarded the plane he grabbed a tablet and started sketching and scribbling, frantically making calculations, drawing trajectories, frowning and muttering to himself. She watched, fascinated, wondering if he ever relaxed, took a break, went on vacation. She found it hard to imagine. And yet, last night…

Last night she’d seen a very different side of Darius… dancing Darius. A softer, much more human side. She’d had glimpses of it, that day with Tess, and later when Darius talked about her and Lazlo. But last night was the first time she’d seen him completely unguarded, totally present in the moment and not mentally five steps ahead while she raced to keep up. Is that what it takes for him to relax, she thought? The possibility of all being lost, of it being our last night on earth?

Is that why she’d allowed herself to want him? Because, under the effects of the drug, she genuinely believed they might die in that seedy flat in Moscow? He was undeniably attractive, but until he kissed her at the train station she thought she was immune to his charm.

She closed her eyes and settled back in her seat.

Darius looked up from his work. He reached for a blanket and leant over to place it gently in her lap. “Sleep,” he encouraged quietly, “You’ve earned it.”

She opened her eyes and saw that he was smiling at her. “So have you.”

“I don’t sleep.” he reminded her.

She raised an eyebrow in challenge, “You do!”

He chuckled and for a moment they smiled at each other, both remembering how they’d woken up entangled. Becoming conscious of the sudden desire to kiss him again, Grace looked away, pulling the blanket up around her.

“Big day tomorrow,” Darius said swiftly, turning his attention back to his calculations, “get some sleep.”

She knew he was disappointed, but was grateful that he tried to hide it.

Grace closed her eyes again, returning to her previous train of thought.

No, it wasn’t just the drug, she admitted. It played its part, but she’d been drawn to him from the first, just emotionally rather than physically. She believed in him – not just because she needed the hope he represented, needed the faith he had in himself, and in Liam – but instinctively.

When did she stop thinking of him as a brilliant, but smugly infuriating colleague, and start thinking of him as a friend? When she realised he didn’t hack NASA and was building an ark? When she realised he was protecting her? Or his confession about Tess and willingness to admit his own failings? Maybe it was a combination of those things, but most of all, it was his faith in Lazlo, and his complete loyalty to his childhood friend. Trust, she’d learned recently, just as the Minister Toporov said, was truly the most valuable commodity.

Her thoughts turned to Harris. Only days ago she’d been so happy he hadn’t died in London, so glad their relationship was back on track. (Was it really only days ago?) They’d been together for a year. She’d applied for a transfer so they could date openly, and had finally come clean about their relationship to Zoe. It was a moment she’d looked forward to for so long – she hated having to hide things from her daughter.

But then she’d kissed Darius – or Darius had kissed her – and the ground shifted.

Darius was simultaneously one of the saddest people she knew, and also one of the happiest. He carried such regret, yet genuinely loved what he did, creating technology he hoped would make life better, throwing himself into every challenge and refusing to accept no for an answer. Demanding the best of himself and others. He believed absolutely in his work – something that Grace realised with sudden clarity, she no longer did. Believing in what she did had always been so important to her, then Darius came along and challenged everything. The ground she’d thought was stable had crumbled beneath her feet.

How often had she misread him? She’d assumed he was mocking her when he talked about her being the stable boy, but he wasn’t. He was just trying to draw her attention to something he’d realised that she hadn’t realised herself: she was better than that. That she could be more than someone who just followed orders – she could be someone who achieved extraordinary things. He’d seen it in her, just as he had with Liam, and as always, it had taken her a while to catch up. It was intoxicating, and more than a little frightening.

How do you go back from that, she wondered?

 _You don’t_ , said a voice in her head. _You can’t be less now that you’ve learned to be more._

How can you go back to someone who constantly tries to reign you in, keep you in a box, when you know you can be so much more?

She loved Harris, but in that moment, she knew she couldn’t go back to him. She was a completely different person from the woman who’d fallen in love with him, and even if she’d didn’t know exactly who that was, she knew she couldn’t be with someone she couldn’t trust.

She trusted Darius, and she might even be falling in love with him, but she couldn’t be with him either. Not until she was sure it wasn’t because she needed his confidence, his belief, the faith he inspired in her. Not until she was sure she could maintain it on her own.

Grace drifted off to sleep, trying not to think about the way he kissed her.

* * *

 

Darius let her sleep, losing himself in his planning and only allowing himself the occasional lingering glance. She was an extraordinary woman, but he’d known that for a while. He hadn’t picked her as being such an emotional and flirtatious drunk though (the only effect alcohol generally had on him was to slow his mind down long enough for him to recognise his body needed rest) so it had been an unexpectedly wonderful surprise.

He didn’t kid himself that what happened last night had won her affections away from Harris. Her love for her boyfriend had shown itself to be genuine and endured some real tests, and she hadn’t given him any cause to believe she had feelings for him before last night, other than as their best hope to avert disaster. She hadn’t even given him reason to think she liked him, apart from her reassurance that he wasn’t a prick.

She was wrong about that though. He really was, at times. His determination not to repeat his own mistakes made him try to hold everyone to his own standards, and he demanded too much of them. He’d dragged Grace and Liam along with him, even Gillian, oblivious to the consequences. Worse – not oblivious, merely brushing them aside.  

He’d slept last night. Actually slept. With Grace in his arms.

It was probably just the effect of the drug, but it felt like a small miracle. He hadn’t been able to sleep with someone in his bed since Tess. He’d found all kinds of ways to cover it up on the nights he had company, slipping out of bed to work on a project, claiming a deadline, needing to make an international call to a client. That’s why Catherine was always so refreshing and their entanglement had been the only one to stand the test of time. She never expected to stay the night – or asked him to stay. It had never been a business transaction, whatever it might look like, it was simply the result of celebrating a successful collaboration. Catherine was the most confident and self-assured woman he’d ever met, and that was even more attractive than her money. Well, equally, anyway.

What was so extraordinary about Grace was that she didn’t naturally have that kind of self-assurance, which made her determination and courage all the more remarkable.

And her passion.

Darius desperately wanted to believe last night wasn’t just the result of the drug, but he doubted Grace would ever have let him kiss her if she hadn’t believed it might have been the last night of their lives. He’d pushed her into stealing the uranium, dragged her off to Russia with him, knowing the risks, knowing that her actions would set her against Harris (he could acknowledge that although that wasn’t why he’d done those things, he gained a certain satisfaction that her faith in him outweighed her loyalty to her boss and boyfriend) and things could have turned out very differently.

If he genuinely cared for her, he needed to back off, and not keep blindly asking her to put herself in danger.

He promised himself he would take greater care of her, and Liam, and reward their faith in him.

It was time to stop being a prick.

Grace slept for the rest of the flight, waking only when Darius tried to fasten her seatbelt before landing. “Sorry,” he murmured, “we’re nearly there.” She gave him a sleepy smile as she tried to straighten herself up. “What’s the plan?” she asked. 

“I drop you home, you take a shower, get dressed, have some breakfast. I do the same. Then we go and tell the government that while they were wasting our taxes playing stupid wargames, we found a way to save the planet.”

“As a media adviser, I’d reconsider the word stupid.” Grace suggested, drily.

“Fine. _Bloody stupid_ , then.” Darius deadpanned.

Grace laughed, despite herself.


	2. In other words...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picks up from the season finale with Grace, Harris, Jillian, Tanz employees, and some of the 160 who made it in time, sealed in the bunker with the Salvation.

_In other words… I love you._

As the last notes of the song die away, whatever resolve Grace has left fades too and her tears start to flow. Everything that’s happened in the last few weeks, the attempts on her life and Harris’s, taking two lives, Zoe leaving for Africa, and now losing Darius… all catching up with her.

Harris holds her and lets her cry. He knows he’s lost her, knows she’s in love with Darius, and hates himself for letting it happen, for not believing in her, for not fighting for her. He wants to hate Darius too, but he can’t. The person he’s angry with is himself. He’s not even really angry, he just feels… drained.

Harris looks around at the extraordinary sight of the Salvation. How the hell did Darius do all this, without anyone knowing? How can he hate the man that’s given them their best, and maybe only, chance of survival? Everything you need for years, he’d told them. But, where? They’ll need food, water, somewhere for everyone to sleep, and for how long? 30 days? 100 days? What if the counter measures fail, and launching the Salvation is the only viable alternative? How will they operate it without Darius? Where is the astronaut he spoke of? What about oxygen? Fuel?

Harris’s mind begins to race with questions that need answers, things that need to be resolved, the adrenalin kicking in to fight his fatigue.

Without realising, he relaxes his hold on Grace, who steps back, wiping away her tears.

“The uranium,” he murmurs, noticing the canisters on the lower level, “it was for this?” Grace nods.

“So, you knew about this?” he frowns. How many secrets had they kept from one another?

She nods again, trying to pull herself together. “But, not until later,” she clarifies, “I thought it was for the EM drive. Liam and I found out this is where Darius was when NASU was hacked - it’s how I knew he didn’t do it.”

“And why he couldn’t give us an alibi, even when…” Harris closes his eyes, and rubs his hands over his face, sickened at what he’d gone along with, wishing he could absolve himself of responsibility for water boarding Darius and blame it on Claire, but knowing he can’t. “He was protecting this. And _you_.”

“Yes.” (barely a whisper).

Something else is dawning on Harris, “He knew it would come to this.”

“He… feared it would.”

“Then, why isn’t he here? If he saw this coming?”

Grace opens her mouth to share what Darius told her, but her emotions get the better of her and she turns away, only to find herself face-to-face with Tess, and two young girls.

“Grace!” Tess exclaims, relieved to find someone she knows, but clearly confused and concerned, “Where’s Darius? I haven’t seen him. Except…” she gestures to the screen above them.

“Theresa.” Grace manages, surprised, but only for a moment. Of course Darius wouldn’t leave her behind. “He’s not here.” she manages, her voice breaking.

“What do you mean, not here?” Tess demands, astounded.

Seeing that Grace is in no fit state to respond, Harris steps in to explain “He had to lock the doors manually, from inside Tanz.”

“You mean, he’s not coming with us?!” Theresa’s surprise and alarm is palpable. “Why?”

“That’s just what I was wondering.” he says looking at Grace.

For a moment Theresa stands silently torn between shock and confusion, then her hands fly to her mouth, with a soft cry of “Oh!” suddenly understanding.

“What?” Harris asks, by now wondering who the hell this woman is, and how she knows Darius – and Grace, apparently.

“The Huntington’s...” Theresa whispers, turning to Grace fearfully “…has he started showing symptoms?”

“I, I don’t think so.” Grace stammers. But even as she says it, she remembers Darius clutching his hand as though it was cramping, and she wonders.

Theresa continues quietly, “It’s what killed Claudia, his mother. It came on so gradually that, with us being around her all the time, we didn’t immediately notice, but when Darius came home from England for the holidays, he saw right away that something was wrong. We must have been 16, 17? It seems so long ago.” Tess is lost in her memories for a moment. “Her symptoms developed slowly at first, but things escalated quickly at the end. Lazlo took me to see her at the hospice, a few months before she died, but… by then she didn’t recognise anyone but Darius.” Theresa looks sad, whether for Darius or his mother, is impossible to tell.

Harris surmises that she must be Lazlo’s sister. After an appropriate moment of silence, he holds out his hand in introduction, “Harris Edwards.”

“Yes, I recognise you.” Theresa is suddenly brisk, “The Secretary of Defence. I’m Theresa Petersen… but everyone calls me Tess.”

Tess?! Harris looks sharply at Grace, who gives him the briefest of looks that confirms his suspicions.

“Darius and I grew up together. Before his uncle stole him away.”

The note of bitterness doesn’t escape Harris. Clearly they were more than just childhood friends. Theresa shakes it off quickly. “And these are my two…”

She’s interrupted by the arrival of Karissa. “Where’s Liam?” she demands.

“Just over there …” Harris gestures, but as they turn to where Liam was, only minutes ago, there’s only Jillian, looking tearful and being comforted by one of the 160 team.

“Jillian?” Karissa asks again, urgently, “Where’s Liam?”

“Gone!” she croaks.

“What do you mean gone?” Harris frowns. “Gone where?”

“After Darius. He said there was something he had to tell him and it couldn’t wait.” Jillian begins to sob again, and Grace reaches out to her. She embraces the younger woman tightly, trying not to imagine the worst.

Karissa eyes Grace curiously, but doesn’t remark on it. She’s had suspicions. She turns back to Harris, “Darius gave me this. I was supposed to give it to Liam.” she hands him a Tanz tablet. “It’s the blueprints for the rocket, and for this place.” she gestures around them, apparently in awe.

Harris looks at her oddly. “You didn’t know about this?”

“No. I handled most of his daily business, but not the Mars project. That was Lazlo’s domain.” she acknowledges Tess awkwardly before continuing, “I had no idea they’d gotten so far with it. I guess that explains the missing billion, and why he wouldn’t tell Nicholas about it.”

“It explains a lot.” Harris agrees. He turns on the tablet and Karissa helps him open up the plans for the bunker. “We need to work out where everyone’s going to sleep, how much food and water we have. Develop a roster and so on.” he comments.

“Let me help.” offers Tess. “I’ve gotten pretty good at bringing order to chaos thanks to these two.” she smiles at her girls. The look on her face suggests she needs to keep busy as much as Harris does.

He turns to Grace, not wanting to abandon her, but really needing to do something useful. “Go,” she encourages, “we’ll join you in a while.”

Harris turns to Karissa, “Do you know who’s here?”

She shakes her head. “I have a list of staff who signed in today, but I don’t know if they’re all here. And Jillian sent an automated message to shortlisted candidates in the immediate vicinity, but I don’t know who made it in time.”

“Okay,” Harris starts thinking aloud “Can you take a role call? Get everyone to write down their name, occupation, next of kin. That kind of thing. If there are any couples, families, friends, keep them together.” Karissa nods, and within seconds is waving her clipboard and rounding everyone up.

Harris turns to Tess and the girls. “I’m going to investigate the sleeping quarters. Could you find out which stores have the food and bedding in?” he swipes through the plans, showing Tess where to look. Darius might be good at designing rockets, he thinks, but he’s not very good at organising supplies: none of the rooms marked “stores” actually specify what’s in them. Tess frowns at the tablet and then touches “Store 01”. A list of contents pops up. She touches a few more until she finds the one with the bedding. Harris says nothing but mentally curses Darius for not even letting him have this small victory.

“I’ll tell Karissa to send them down to me to pick up their bedding, then I’ll send them up to you, and you can show them where to sleep.” Tess suggests.

Harris agrees, and heads up the staircase to the next floor, where the dorms are located.

He returns some time later to find Grace and Jillian sitting talking quietly.

“There are beds for 160 people in the dorms. Mostly 8-person bunks, with a few rooms for 2 and 4. Karissa and I have been allocating space. I put Theresa and her kids in one of the 2 bed rooms, the girls were happy to share a bunk.” Harris hesitates, “I don’t think they really understand what’s going on, Theresa told them it was like school camp but for grown-ups. I’ve put you both into another.”

Grace manages a smile, “Thanks. And you?” she asks.

“I found the astronaut Darius mentioned, I’ll share with him. We… uh, we don’t have beds for everyone in the dorms. A few will have to sleep on the rocket.”

Grace looks up sharply. “How many people are there?”

“193.” Jillian answers, automatically. “191.” she corrects. Liam and Darius…

“What happens if…”

“We’ll deal with that problem another day.” says Harris grimly. “It may not come to that.”

“But what if it does?”

“We start with the people on the list.” Jillian says slowly, “Not all of them will have made it in time, but those that have were chosen for a reason. Then there’s Darius’s personal selects – the two of you, me, Liam…”

“Wait,” Harris interrupts, surprised, “Darius selected me?” Somehow he’d assumed Darius meant there was room in the bunker for him, when he’d been explaining about the Salvation to the President, not the rocket itself.

“Yes. Both of you. And Zoe.” Grace and Harris exchange glances. “He had us do genetic and psychological testing for all of you. Ten of us in all, not including him. Theresa Peterson and her kids, Karissa, Catherine Adams. Catherine is over the age limit for the general selection, but she passed all the other tests. We all did, except…”

“Him.” Grace finishes bleakly.

“Who’s Catherine Adams?” Harris asks curiously.

“She paid for this.” Grace responds.

“She’s also the one who sold her shares to Nicholas and nearly lost Darius his company.” Karissa spits venomously, approaching Harris. “I’d have told her to go fuck herself.”

They all turn to look at her, surprised at the outburst.

“Were you… and Darius…?” Harris stumbles, voicing what they’re all thinking.

“Oh, God no!”

Harris looks sceptical.

“Really, no!” Karissa says more emphatically, but it doesn’t look like they believe her.

She sighs, she’d prefer to keep her private life to herself, but under the circumstances that’s impossible anyway, “You see that woman over there? The red-head in the lab coat directing people to rooms? That’s my wife, Alex. One of the finest electronic engineers in the country.” she adds, with pride. “She’s been working with Darius since the early days. She recommended me when he was looking for a new executive assistant.”

Karissa grins, remembering, “Apparently the previous one developed a bit of a thing for him and wouldn’t put any female callers through. Unfortunately, one of them was then Governor MacKenzie, and Darius was not amused and decided it was time to fire her. So, I turned out to be the perfect candidate.”

Harris barks with laughter, and even Grace and Jillian can’t help but crack a smile. “Well, it’s good to know there’s at least a couple of women immune to his charm.” he murmurs.

“Make that three.” Jillian interjects.

“I’m sorry,” Karissa continues, “it’s just that if Darius had lost the company, we’d probably both have lost our jobs, so… Catherine can go to hell as far as I’m concerned.”

“Is that so?” comes an icy voice behind her. “Perhaps now’s a good time to remind you that if I hadn’t invested in the Mars project, we’d probably all be buried under a pile of rubble. Even _you_.” Catherine adds pointedly.

“Catherine… nice to see you again.” Grace extends a hand swiftly, trying to smooth the situation over and not think about piles of rubble.

“Ms. Barrows.” Catherine shakes her hand cordially, before turning back to Karissa. “I take it Darius never told you who bailed him out the two times he went bankrupt? Neither of you would even have jobs if it weren’t for me.”

“And _him_.” Karissa retorts, loyally.

Catherine concedes this point, and the tension begins to dissipate. “He’s always been terrible with money,” she sighs, “but brilliant in every other way. I’ve never regretted my investment.”

“Then why did you sell your shares to Nicholas Tanz?” Karissa challenges.

“Well, I obviously wasn’t going to get a quick return on my investment in this, and I needed some money for another project I’ve been working on. I knew Geoff Richards was thinking about selling his shares – he never really supported Darius moving away from communications technology and into the space race – so I figured I’d be able to buy back in when I had the money again.”

Now it’s Karissa’s turn to look sceptical.

“I honestly had no idea Nicholas wanted to oust Darius as CEO, or I’d have never agreed to it. He told me he wanted to _strengthen_ family interests in the company.” Grace can see that Catherine is sincere, but Karissa is still unimpressed.

Harris steps in, “Karissa, you wanted to speak to me?”

“Yes. Paul Kozlowski…” Harris looks at her blankly “The pushy guy, agricultural scientist, no social skills? He wants to know what happens next.”

Harris sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “For now, let’s just get everyone to their rooms and settled in. Make sure they know where the bathrooms are, but until we know how much water we’ve got, no showers, no laundry. Tell him we’ll have a briefing in a couple of hours. Find me when everyone knows where they’re going.” Karissa nods and leaves.

“I’ll show you to your room.” he offers Grace and Jillian. “Do you know where you’re sleeping?” he asks Catherine.

She nods but doesn’t move away. “Ms. Barrows… may I speak to you for a moment, alone?”

Grace has had about as much as she can handle for one day, but pauses. Harris and Jillian continue a short distance away.

“I don’t know how long you’ve known Darius?”

“Not long.” Grace confesses, realising that in fact, she’s only known him a few months.

Catherine nods. “Well, as you know, I’ve known him a long time. And better than most. I’ve seen him stumble, and fall, and fail, over and over. I’ve seen him make awful business decisions, usually with good intentions, but terrible none the less. But,” she looks directly at Grace, “I’ve never seen him give up. He tries, he fails, he tries again. And if something really doesn’t work he tries something new. There’s nothing he loves more than a challenge. It’s never been about the money for him, it’s always been about solving problems, trying to find the impossible solution. That’s why my husband, God rest his soul,” she pauses to cross herself, “and I, continued to back him, despite everything.”

“Your husband?” Grace is unable to hide her surprise, “But, I thought you and Darius…”

“Yes.” Catherine acknowledges, and for a moment her expression is unreadable, “It’s a long story, for some other time. Look, maybe this is none of my business, but I saw you leave earlier and I saw him go after you. If I’m not mistaken, you care for each other – as more than just collaborators. I’ve known him a long time and I’ve never seen him look at someone the way he looked at you.”

You haven’t met Tess, Grace thinks, swallowing hard, and suddenly feeling like she’s going to cry again. Seeing her distress, Catherine reaches out to steady her.

“Ms. Barrows, Grace…” she says gently, “I don’t know what’s happening up there, but I do know Darius, and if anyone can find a way out of this mess, he can. Please believe that. As long as he’s breathing, he’ll be working on a solution. We don’t need him in here – we need him out there. In 30 days he’ll be stepping out of that elevator with a big grin on his face telling everyone to stop mucking around and get back to work. You mark my words.”

She says it with such utter conviction that Grace knows she’s not just offering up a platitude, she really believes it.

She gives the older woman a grateful smile, as Catherine walks away, realising she might have been too hasty to judge her (and Darius’s relationship with her), suddenly curious to get to know her better.


	3. A drinking problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With only minutes left before the missiles hit, Darius and Liam race to find shelter. Injured, and trapped without food and water, Darius struggles to keep a clear head, and salvation comes from unexpected sources.

The door of the elevator closes, and to Liam's surprise the elevator starts going down, rather than up.

"We're not going to the treehouse?"

"No." Darius pauses to glance at his watch, his smile fading, "If the intercept isn't successful, we have less than two minutes before the missiles hit. Our best bet is the basement."

Liam frowns. "I thought there was nothing down there but the car park?"

"There isn't…" Darius grins, "except my wine cellar."

"Shelter in your wine cellar?" Liam asks incredulously, "That's your plan?"

"You got a better one?"

Liam shakes his head. He doesn't. "No, sir."

Darius looks nervously at his watch, and when the door opens, sprints out of the elevator, yelling at Liam to hurry. They dash across the car park to a door marked private. "Open, damn it!" Darius curses under his breath, waiting for the security system to recognise his implant and unlock the door. He yanks the door open, pushes Liam inside, and slams it behind them.

He fumbles in the dark for the light switch, but before he can reach it, they're knocked off their feet.

* * *

Completely disoriented in the total darkness, Liam tries to sit up. He's shaken and bruised, but nothing seems to be broken. "Darius?" he asks, unsteadily.

There's no answer.

"Darius?" he calls again, more loudly.

"M'ok." Darius manages, sounding dazed. He must have hit his head hard as he fell, because he's feeling woozy.

Liam fumbles in his pocket and finds his phone, using the light to get his bearings and locate Darius. He pulls himself to his feet and stumbles to the door feeling dizzy, reaching for the light switch. Nothing happens.

"Shockwave." mumbles Darius, becoming aware of the screaming pain in his ankle. He cautiously sits up, his head swimming, and checks it. It doesn't seem to be broken. Maybe he just twisted it when he fell. He's pretty sure he blacked out for a while. Liam kneels beside him, a look of concern on his face.

Darius tries to ignore it. "Mains power will be out."

"Darius, you're bleeding."

Liam reaches out and gingerly touches Darius's hairline, which prompts a string of curses.

"Sorry."

The cut isn't deep but the skin around it is angry and swollen. Liam helps Darius slide along the floor so he's sitting with his back propped up against the wall, then looks around for something to clean him up with. "Is there a first aid kit in here? A sink? Water?"

"Liam, it's a _wine_ cellar."

"Oh, yeah, right, alcohol." Liam stands up and moves to pull a bottle off a shelf. It looks expensive.

"Absolutely not." Darius croaks, seeing what he's pulled out. "Other wall, second shelf."

Liam pulls out a bottle of Bordeaux and shines his torch on it for Darius to see.

He nods, "Not a great year."

Liam tears a strip off his shirt, soaking it in the wine before gently starting to clean the wound and wipe the blood off Darius's face. Darius remains silent apart from the occasional wince of discomfort. Once he's done a satisfactory job of cleaning him up, Liam sits beside him, holding the material firmly against the cut which is still bleeding.

After a minute or two, Darius reaches up and pulls Liam's hand away, holding the material in place himself. "You should turn that off," he says, glancing at Liam's phone, "conserve the battery."

Liam is relieved to hear him sounding more like his old 'do as I say' self and turns the screen off. They sit in the dark for a while, both silently taking stock of their predicament. Wondering how far away the bomb - or bombs? - landed. Was it a nuclear warhead? What about fallout?

Liam wishes he was safe in the bunker with Jillian, and not stuck in a cellar with Darius, but they're all still alive, and if they can get out of this, he thinks he knows how to, well not _how_ , but _what_ to do to give them all a chance. But first they have to get out of this cellar.

"What's the plan?" he asks, quietly.

"For this, or to save the human race?"

"Well, both, but I meant for this."

"Oh." Darius shakes his head to try and clear it, which he immediately regrets as it starts to swim again. "No plan. Yet."

"Well, how long do we need to stay down here? Do we have any food, water? What about power? Do you have a back up generator? Are we safe? What about radiation?" he tries to keep the panic out of his voice, "What about _air_? Darius, do we have enough air?"

"Calm down." Darius advises, not feeling particularly calm himself but determined not to let Liam see it. "I don't know how long we need to stay down here. It depends how far away the impact was, how much fallout there is. But we're safe from radiation down here, and we won't run out of air. There's a ventilation system that keeps the wine at the right temperature, and the angles of the vents should prevent exposure to radioactive particles."

"What about food, water?"

"Well, we don't have any of either. But we do have a very fine collection of wine, so we won't die of dehydration. Talking of which - where's that Bordeaux?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you drink too much?" Liam mutters, but fumbles for the bottle in the dark, and passes it to Darius. He can't see, but he can hear Darius taking a swig.

Darius laughs - another mistake as his head explodes in pain. He's aware that he drinks more than he should, but then he's always assumed the Huntington's will kill him before liver failure sets in, and sometimes it's the only way he can force himself to slow down. "Yes," he manages finally, as the pain in his head subsides, "but where would we be if I didn't like a drink?"

"Good point." Liam reaches for the bottle and takes a swig himself. Whoa. "Wait, you said this was a _bad_ year?" he asks, taking several more appreciative sips, savouring the taste.

"It's all relative." Darius acknowledges. "So, what did you come rushing over here to tell me? Have you figured it out?"

Liam grins to himself in the dark. "Magnets!" he exclaims triumphantly. "We pull it off course with magnets! Really powerful ones. I don't know how we get them up there, but..."

"Yes, that _is_ the question."

"Wait... you...?"

"Figured it out about 30 seconds before you came rushing into the elevator." Darius reaches into his pocket and pulls out the magnets he picked up earlier and drops them into Liam's hand.

"Oh." Liam can't hide his disappointment.

"So, the challenge is to work out how long we need to stay down here before it's safe to leave, and how much we can drink to keep ourselves hydrated whilst remaining alert enough to figure out how strong the magnets need to be and how we get them into space in time to save the planet?"

This dumbass planet, Darius thinks, suddenly aware of an altogether different kind of pain.

* * *

Several hours pass, in which Darius and Liam work through a number of different scenarios about the strength of the magnets, and how long they need to remain in the cellar depending on the distance and strength of the bomb, and address the even more pressing problem of how to relieve themselves. Neither is confident of being able to pee into the narrow neck of a bottle in the dark, nor keen to smash a bottle and risk cutting themselves on it. They spend an embarrassingly long time discussing it before Darius remembers there's a mop and bucket Lazlo decided to leave there after accidentally breaking a bottle. He can’t be sure whether it’s because he hit his head and therefore isn't thinking clearly, or because they're onto their third bottle.

They've both lost track of time and are starting to feel hungry, when Darius’s phone rings, making them both jump.

“Who is it?” Liam asks in surprise.

Darius scrambles to find his phone, which he must have dropped in the blast. “I don’t know. I don’t recognise the number.” Everyone who has his private number is locked in a bunker with no signal. He lets it ring until it goes to voicemail. The caller doesn’t hang up.

“Mr. Tanz, this is…” says a business-like voice, which Darius recognises. He quickly picks up the call, switching to speaker phone so that Liam can hear “…Hugh Keating, Grace’s…”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

There's an unmistakable sigh of relief. “Thank God! Is Grace with you?”

“No, but she’s safe. Underground, with Harris and most of my staff. Where are you? Are you and Mrs. Keating okay?”

“Yah, we’re fine. I may have broken the land speed record on the way, but we got out in time. We’re at a friend’s place up near Charlottesville. Where are you? Why aren’t you with Grace and Harris?”

“I’m in the basement at Tanz, with Liam. We're safe for now. And we think we’ve found a way to deal with the asteroid but don’t know if it’s safe to leave. I can’t get a data signal. What’s going on?”

“The internet and most of the cable networks are down. _(“Electromagnetic pulse.” mumbles Liam.)_ CNN is reporting that two of the four missiles were intercepted, but one hit just outside Baltimore… the other hit Arlington.”

Liam and Darius look at each other in shock. The Pentagon! “That explains the shockwave.” mumbles Darius.

“Exactly how far is Tanz Industries from Arlington?” Hugh asks.

“Either just far enough away… or not.” Darius answers grimly, think about the mental calculations he and Liam had been making. “It depends on which way the wind is blowing.”

“We need to get you out of there.”

"Please." Darius agrees.

“I know some people…”

“I hoped you might.”

“It might take a while though.”

“How long?”

“Can you hold out for 48 hours?”

Darius and Liam exchange a glance and Liam shrugs. They don’t have any food, but they have wine. The only real concern is whether any radioactive particles might be creeping into the air they’re breathing.

“Yes… probably.”

“Well, hang tight. We’ll be there as soon as I can figure out how.”

“We appreciate that.” Liam cuts in.

“Well, it seems like a reasonable exchange for keeping my daughter safe. Just so we know what to expect, how many people are we retrieving?”

Darius hesitates. “Just the two of us. We can’t get to Grace and the others yet.”

“What the hell do you mean? I thought you said she's safe?”

“She is, I promise. It's just that they’re sealed in an air-locked bunker 100m underground. They have everything they need to survive for years, but, now they’re in lockdown there’s no way to override it for 30 days.”

There’s a moment of silence. Liam and Darius exchange concerned glances. “Mr. Keating…?”

“Hugh." he's silent for a moment, then, "Would I be correct in assuming you designed the bunker?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I hope it works as well as your phones, Mr. Tanz."

"Darius".

"How is it that I’m able to talk to you when everything else is down, by the way?”

“Calling this number patches you through via one of my satellites if all the local networks are down.” he frowns wondering, “Did Grace give you my number?”

“Zoe actually.”

“Okay.” Darius breathes a sigh of relief, because if he’d got it any other way, it would no longer be secure. "There's one more thing... you'll need to bring something to break through a steel door."

"Pretty sure we can manage that. How do we find you when we get to Tanz?"

Darius gives Hugh directions and they agree a time to get in touch again before hanging up.

“That was Grace’s father, I take it?” Liam asks.

Darius nods, “Former CIA. I think.” he offers, by way of explanation. Liam raises his eyebrows. Well, that explains a few things.

“Do you think he can really get us out?”

“If _he_ can’t, nobody can.” Darius grins.

“That’s not comforting. I don’t want to die here in this cellar with you.”

“We’re not going to die here, Liam. Not unless you touch the bottles on the...”

Darius closes his eyes with a sigh, leaning back against the wall and falling silent, thinking back to a seedy apartment in Moscow. It really is the most inconvenient time to fall in love, he reflects.

Liam looks at Darius curiously. How come he seems to know Grace's father well enough to trust him with their lives?

Then he remembers the look on Grace's face when Darius said he wasn't staying in the bunker with them. Him going after her. Harris looking broken.

“You and Grace… when did _that_ happen?!”

“It didn’t.” Darius murmurs.

Liam isn’t buying it. “I mean, I guessed she and Harris broke up after he arrested her, but…”

“Nothing happened, Liam. Even if it did, I don’t kiss and tell.” Darius says evenly, but somehow, even in the dark, Liam can tell he's trying not to smile.

“So, you _have_ kissed her!” he exclaims, triumphantly.

“Liam…” Darius warns.

Liam ignores him and gives him a friendly shove. “That’s great!” he declares, revelling in the chance to make Darius feel uncomfortable. “Grace is a wonderful woman, very warm, very… passionate. It’ll do you the world of good to get lai…”

“LIAM!”

“No, no, really, you’re a little intense sometimes, Darius, you know that, right? A little bit of romance is just what you need.”

Darius laughs in spite of himself.

“Yeah, well, she’s locked in the bunker for the next 30 days, Liam, so forgive me if I get a little intense and feel the need to work out my frustration by insisting we both work 18 hours a day.”

The smiles slips off Liam’s face.

“Yeah, you didn’t think of _that_ , did you?!” Darius shoots back.

The moment of levity doesn’t last though. Who knows what the next 30 days will hold? Even if they’ve figured out how to deflect the asteroid, will they actually be able to pull it off? Will they be able to salvage the technology they need? And what state will the country be in?

Darius is under no illusion about the chaos and confusion that will likely take hold over the coming weeks. They could be locked in a full-scale conflict with Russia. And now that Resist has access to Tess’s super-computing power... who knows what their objective is. 30 days doesn’t seem like long enough to ensure a future without Salvation. There’s every chance that the ark will be their only chance to save humanity. In which case, he may never see Grace again, and Liam will never see Jillian.

“I’m sorry, Liam.” he says quietly, and Liam can tell he’s not joking anymore. “You were supposed to be in there with them.”

“I know.” he pauses. “So were you. What is it, by the way? I didn’t have a chance to ask.”

“Huntington’s. There’s no cure, yet. My mother died from it.”

“I'm sorry, I knew that from the papers, I just... in all the chaos... Aren’t they researching how to turn the gene off?”

“Yes, and they’re close, but…” Darius sighs.

“What?”

“I fear it’s too late - for me. Headaches, insomnia, my hand…” Darius unconsciously rubs his right hand. “They’re all symptoms.”

“But couldn't they just be stress?”

“That's true. But I watched my mother’s illness develop, and this was how it started. Impatience, irritability…”

“I thought that was just your natural personality.”

Darius laughs. “Touché.”

Liam turns serious again. “How long?”

“Ten, maybe even twenty years. Who knows? The chances are the world is going to hell long before I find out.”

“Does _she_ know?”

Darius takes a deep breath. He doesn’t have time to go there. He needs to stay focused, and not let his thoughts keep drifting back to Grace.

“Darius?” Liam insists, but he still doesn’t answer.

It dawns on Liam then, “You’re in love with her.”

There’s a moment's silence before Darius switches his phone back on for some light, and turns back to Liam, thrusting a pen at him and gesturing at the walls. “Time to start calculating how powerful those magnets need to be. 18 hour days, Liam, I wasn’t joking.”


End file.
